


Grief

by anoyo



Category: Gundam 00
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2008-12-15
Updated: 2008-12-15
Packaged: 2017-10-03 05:54:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 416
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14911
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/anoyo/pseuds/anoyo
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p><b>Spoilers</b> for season one and the beginning of season two.  Setsuna thinks about Neil and how the little things around them all simply bring back those memories.  His struggle to accept Lyle as another person, and truly part of the team, is something that he will have to accomplish in order to overcome his grief.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Grief

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the [Mechaphiles Holiday Fic Exchange 2008](http://mechaphiles.nadleeh.org/forum/viewforum.php?f=51). The prompt I was given was Lyle &amp; Setsuna: Lyle is nothing like his brother. I reinterpreted that a little, putting it in, perhaps, a less negative understanding. I am not the best at getting into Setsuna's mind, but, considering that, I think I'm a little proud of this fic.

It comes and goes, like the ache of an old wound, an acutely relevant metaphor.

It comes, in memories of simple gestures, curses uttered during battle, curses uttered in the night, flashes of that singular motivation.

It comes, in snatches, waves, and words.

And then, when other things are there to distract, to reassert reality, it goes again, to leave behind only the echo of a placid, throbbing pain.

Setsuna wonders, almost absently, if there would have been better closure with a funeral, a real funeral, one of those Catholic ones he'd heard tales of. Black clothing, a cloudy, rainy sky, an old, uptight man to speak a few words in honor of a man he'd never known; maybe, then, it could be tied and sealed, thrown back to the sands to be misplaced and forgotten.

Or, perhaps, it would have ended if not for him, "Lockon," Lyle, the same, the different. If those gestures, curses, that motivation were only recursive in his memory, and not in reality. If they weren't there every time he turned around, or every time he pushed himself into company.

Could it have made a difference? If so, what did that say about him? That he sought out his own reminder; did that make him the cause of his own plight? A masochist? Or, the optimist would say, did that say that he was making efforts to move past, rather than avoiding the issue?

It was likely that these thoughts were all bullshit, the half-asleep thoughts of a man unsure of his place in the world, unsure of his motivation in the world, and whose skeletons were freely animated. The half-asleep thoughts of the everyman.

Like these, now. As he lay, half-awake, half-drifting, waiting.

Waiting for--

"Setsuna." The sound of his name, familiar tone, unfamiliar cadence, signaling the end of his reverie. "Dinner's ready, that family thing Sumeragi was shoving at us."

He nods, sits. "For Christmas."

"A dead old holiday," the other replies, shrugging, "that comes along with a dead old religion." Smirks. "At least it comes with good food, right?"

Setsuna doesn't reply. Instead, he remembers, memories highlighting yet another difference -- _but so alike in expression_ \-- another reason to begin to forget. "Lyle," Setsuna says, not 'Lockon,' though he doesn't know for whom he is amending, for whom he is separating, changing labels.

"Yeah?" Lyle raises an eyebrow, smiling crookedly. So much like--

A breath. "Nothing," he exhales, walking slowly past. But he thinks, _You cannot be the same_.


End file.
